Christmas with the Mafia
by Xerxies19
Summary: When Hayner's internship at the police station suddenly turns deadly, he has to deceive almost everyone he knows, including Seifer. Normal people have to deal with just the stress of the holidays, Hayner has to deal with the mafia. Violent Christmas fic.


-1 **My other fic, Lifeline, is a prerequisite for this. You must read Lifeline first, or else very little will make sense. **

--------------------------------

Hayner hated shopping, and that included picking up a Christmas gift for his boyfriend with Roxas and Axel. It was possibly the worst idea he'd ever had. Right up there with trying to give Roxas's cat a flea bath without proper arm or face protection. Once the pair had gotten past making light jabs at the brown-eyed teen's relationship (which was probably deserved, since he did the same to them), they instead made jokes about the other mall-goers and their appearances, which had ceased to be funny ten minutes ago.

After putting up with their antics for twenty minutes, the lithe skater had finally had enough and waited until they were distracted by making fun of a portly man in an overstuffed coat to make a run for it. Disappearing behind some other shoppers, he took off in the direction of his end goal, which he had never actually divulged to the other two. After losing his way (he only came here once a month at best, since it was on the outskirts of town, and the place was massive), he managed to get to the jewelry store he was looking for.

"Oh, hello Hayner, are you looking for something for Seifer?"

Snapping his head up so fast he felt his neck crack, he looked at the person behind the counter to discover it was none other than Namine, a friend of Roxas's whom he'd talked to a few times. She smiled shyly, deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"He was in here a few days ago but didn't see anything he liked," she added, motioning to the jewelry below her station.

"Actually, I'm picking something up. I commissioned a piece from a guy who runs a business out of this shop a couple months ago, he said it was ready."

"Oh, I'll go look. The orders are in a case the back," she explained, pulling out a ring of keys and sorting through them before exiting through a door in the back of the shop. She returned not long after with a palm-sized black box, handing it to him and asking if it was the correct item.

Opening it, he pulled out the necklace, a stylized silver cross that had been meticulously painted a bright red, about an inch and a half across, on a silver chain. It was, obviously, a symbol of the Knights Templar Seifer liked to study up on so much. He'd come upon the silversmith a while ago and asked him to make the piece with Christmas in mind, and gave him a down payment.

"It looks like you still have a payment due on it," the petite girl piped up, looking at her computer screen across the way, cringing before continuing, "It's kind of expensive, twenty thousand munny."

He had enough cash on him to buy pretty much whatever he wanted, the Turks had recently seized a regional mob boss's hideout and found some absurd amount of munny, some of which was given out to employees and as a Christmas bonus, Reno gave him part of his slice for all his help on paperwork. Most cops would have kept the money for themselves anyways, it wasn't like the Twilight Town Police Department really cared about less than one percent of a fortune, they already had more than they could handle.

Sighing, he handed her the amount, plus the sales tax, in cash, causing her already large blue eyes to bug out of her head. Shrugging and hoping she didn't come to the wrong conclusions as to how he got the money, he grabbed the receipt and left, tucking the box in his front pocket.

Wandering aimlessly since he would come to an exit eventually if he picked a direction, he wondered what the other blond was getting him. Knowing him it would be something very difficult to get, that either required knowing someone or some show of force. He wasn't the type to get gifts that could be bought with money, he was the type of person who was likely to propose with a diamond ring stolen from the safe of a drug lord, just to show he was willing to risk his life for love. It was an endearing sort of idiocy.

"Doing a bit of Christmas shopping, Hayner?"

Hackles raised, he whirled to face the owner of the voice behind him, only to find Rufus Shinra with a small smirk on his face. Oddly enough there didn't seem to be any Turks around; the brown-eyed male expected at least that Tseng would be watching over his boyfriend, the most likely candidate for the next mayor. Then he noticed a small lump in the strawberry blond's impeccably white coat and remembered that the future politician was often armed.

"Yeah, what about you? Getting something for Tseng, or just people-watching?" The skater asked, eyes narrowed warily.

A chuckle, "A little of both, actually. I hear Reno and Rude are thinking about getting you a little something by way of thanks for your involvement at the station, I don't know how your boy will feel about it though. There have been some nasty rumors floating around about the station being attacked, the Turks specifically, but these things come and go without incident every now and again. Then again, you can't be too careful."

"Is that why you're packing, or do you always carry a gun with you in public places at Christmastime?"

"I carry a gun on my person whenever I go out without Tseng or one of the other Turks. There are people who either want my head or my money, and I'd rather they didn't get either. I've known how to use a gun since I was fifteen years old. By the way, there's a group of thugs looking at you and I oddly, we should probably start moving before they do something stupid."

Turning to look in the direction the blue-eyed man was facing, he noticed a few lowlifes leaning against the wall, hands gripping something in their pockets. Knives, if he had to hazard a guess. Even if most of the larger gangs in Twilight Town had been wiped out by the Disciplinary Committee, there were always small upstarts looking to make a name for themselves, and how better than to kill Seifer's boyfriend or the son of the mayor? Rolling his eyes, he nodded and started off in the direction he guessed the two spiky-haired lovebirds he was here with would be.

"They're following us, aren't they?" The lanky freshman sighed when he glanced back and saw figures moving through the crowd after them. The future politician nodded, unperturbed. In fact, upon closer inspection, he actually had a small smile on his face, like this was some game to him. The gang member shrugged, chocking the strangeness up to living a life where death threats and kidnapping were as normal as eating breakfast in the morning. This was coming from the man who was dating the leader of the Turks, after all.

"I can get rid of them if you want," the older blond offered easily.

"We're not going to pull a gun on people in a crowded mall, what the hell?"

"I wasn't going to do that, I was just going to get Tseng. He was waiting in the food court while I was out shopping. I doubt they'd stick around once he showed up."

"Go ahead, I'll text Roxas and Axel," the younger replied as he flipped open his phone and told his best friend to get his short ass over to the giant fountain in the center of the mall, which was where they were headed.

They must have all been close, because he could just see a head of red spikes and a conspicuous black suit standing out of the crowd coming from different directions, both converging on the fountain as they neared it. Of course, that was when a woman shouted indignantly and he turned to see the three men running for them through the sea of holiday shoppers.

Shooting out his left arm to shove Rufus out of the way, he used his right to grab the first attacker's knife hand and twist it until he dropped the weapon, the man's face contorting in agony as his bones were warped and broken. Drawing his left arm back, Hayner punched him in the face twice in quick succession, letting the pain incapacitate him the same way blunt trauma would.

Even after all Seifer's training, there was no way the sandy-blond man could have dodged the downward knife stroke of the next man, who seemed to be waiting for his fellow member to fall, using him as a distraction to get in close to the skater. Before the body had even settled on the floor the next thug drove his knife into Hayner's right thigh. Unfortunately for the lowlife and his remaining companion, that was when Tseng, Roxas and Axel managed to get to them, considerably more angry than three seconds ago.

Shock and pain blurred his vision, but from what he could tell, the spiky-haired blond broke the first man's nose with a headbutt then kicked him so hard in the leg it shattered his kneecap, eliciting a howl from him before he crumpled on the ground. Meanwhile Tseng disarmed the third man while Axel came from behind and dislocated his shoulder, holding him still long enough for the detective to deliver a sound kick to the ribs that sent the gang member over the edge.

After a second of watching the prone bodies, it suddenly dawned on him that he shouldn't be able to support his own weight with an injured leg, and he noticed that this whole time Rufus had been holding him up by the armpits. Seeing the mall security rush up, Tseng shook his head and flashed his badge before telling them to call an ambulance.

"Fuck, Hayner, are you okay? What the hell happened?" Roxas asked as he helped Rufus lower the dizzy teen to a sitting position on the floor.

"I don't know, I was talking to Rufus, then these guys started following us so I texted you, and just now they suddenly attacked us. I'll be fine, he missed the bone and I don't think he got any major arteries. Oh, Rox, take this for me, don't want Seifer finding it," the injured male said as he handed the box containing the necklace to his friend, who nodded and put it in his front pocket with his phone, where he wouldn't forget it.

"He's going to be pissed when I call him about this, and your mother isn't going to be pleased either," Tseng sighed, dreading the two phone calls he would have to make once the ambulance left. Since he was there when it happened, it was automatically his fault that the skater got hurt. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he caught the look of understanding the strawberry blond sent his way as he stood over the pair of teens sitting on the mall floor, the lanky redhead similarly flanking them on the opposite side. It didn't escape Hayner's notice that both Rufus and Axel seemed to be watching for potentially dangerous characters.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much, it's not like I'm hurt that badly. I'll be up and walking in a few days. I just wish I knew what they were after, and who the hell they were in the first place, I've never even seen them before," the Disciplinary Committee member reassured the dark-haired detective, trying to remember any gangs that his leader had recently mentioned might attack them.

"If he'll let you walk, which I doubt," the tattooed redhead commented, rolling his eyes.

The pyromaniac had a point, aside the plethora of them on his head. The strong fighter had a penchant for carrying him everywhere they went, and there were slim chances he'd be allowed to move around on an injured leg if he was barely able to do so when completely healthy. There was a commotion nearby and the clattering of metal gurneys as the medics came through the crowds still milling about.

"Well, at least it'll be a shorter walk home, right?" The shorter freshman said with a smirk, earning himself a swat to the head. They fell silent as Hayner was lifted carefully by the medics onto the mobile bed of sorts, no one failing to note the small pool of blood about three inches in diameter where the skater's injured leg had been. They inserted a small needle with some sort of local anesthetic into his thigh, which at the moment didn't hurt as much as it should.

"Why can't you Committee members stay out of trouble for a couple of weeks? It's Christmastime, you should take a break from getting hurt. Weren't you just in the hospital last week for Fuu's leg? How's she doing by the way?" A black woman said with wry humor, whom he recognized, having seen her many of the times they entered the ER after a fight.

"She's doing fine, Rai's been carrying her around on his shoulder so she doesn't have to use crutches," he replied, nearly laughing out loud at how odd it was to be familiar with the emergency personnel as they began moving towards the mall exit, Roxas following without a word, knowing his best friend wanted him there.

"I get the feeling Seifer'll be doing the same with you. You'll be lucky if your feet ever touch the ground, with that one worrying over you."

"So people have been telling me, call me less than thrilled to have my masculinity further undermined by my boyfriend carrying me around all the time instead of just when I'm sleepy."

"Like you really need to worry about the other boys making fun of you when you're a member of the Committee, you're frequently seen with Turks, and your boyfriend is Seifer Almasy. No one's dumb enough to mess with you, and if they are, they'll promptly get their face smashed in, if not by you, by your boy."

He smirked a bit, because she had a point. Other than a few looks and the muttered word "freshman", none of the upperclassmen had bothered him. Which, especially considering he was openly gay, was pretty impressive. Then again, the imposing figure of his partner did follow him to every class, so it would be hard for anyone to pull anything, though it was still possible as Squall showed earlier that year.

"We're going to leave the knife in your leg until we get to the hospital. It's in deep enough that removing it before having direct access to blood transfusions would be dangerous. Hope you don't mind. I can't say the ride is going to be pleasant."

"'S fine," he slurred easily.

"I can't tell if you're just acting tough or if you really don't know how much pain you're in. Have you been doing any kind of substance abuse?" The woman quested further, giving him a skeptical eye, like she didn't believe that he'd do that sort of thing.

Snorting, the sandy-blond replied, "No, I haven't been smoking anything ma'am. I'm in a gang, before that, I was in struggle and skateboarded. Call it conditioning, this really doesn't hurt all that bad. Or it could be that my brain just decided to block pain signals by releasing endorphins."

The blank stare he got was mildly insulting, especially since the spiky-haired blond who was following alongside was giving him one as well.

"My mother is a psychologist, I got beat over the head with this shit every day as a kid. Don't look at me like that."

They smirked and shook their heads, finally exiting the building, where the medics had to lift the gurney momentarily to get it down the few stairs. As they loaded him in the ambulance, he let his eyes slide shut, planning to blame it all on the drugs later.

--------------------------------

Waking up in a drug-induced haze to the noises of the hospital was never something he'd get used to, but at least this time both Roxas and Seifer were sitting right next to him. As he started to sit up, the strong hand that had previously been threaded in his hair moved to push down on his chest and prevent the motion.

"Lay the hell back down. You got out of the emergency room an hour ago. You'll be on crutches for a week, and then you're allowed to put some weight on the leg. And no, that doesn't mean that you can do what I did and walk around a few days after leaving the hospital," the older of the three snapped characteristically, before the pressure lightened a bit and he added, "How are you feeling?"

"As good as someone can feel right after being stabbed? Did Tseng figure out who those guys were or what they were after yet? I didn't recognize any of them."

"No clue, or at least he wouldn't tell me. So either he doesn't know, or it's a cop matter. I definitely didn't recognize any of them from street gangs, so either they're really small-time, or they're another type of low-life altogether."

Right about then Hayner realized there could be a possible connection with the recent mafia raid performed by the Turks, the threats on the station, and the attackers, since both the brown-eyed boy and Rufus had close ties to the Turks. Of course, at no point did he mention to Seifer that he'd actually _helped_ Reno and Rude by figuring out the entrances and exits while pretending to be skateboarding in the area, and then actually climbed into one of the air vents to get into the building and unlock one of the doors when the bust happened.

Indeed the blond sophmore was never informed the bust happened at all, since it never made it to the news, mysteriously (apparently the Shinras owned the local news stations too), and his boyfriend felt no need to worry him with the minor details of the goings-on at the police station where he interned. The gang leader would explode if he knew the kind of danger the younger teen was being put into.

"I'll ask them again Friday. Maybe by then they'll have some leads. For now I guess we'll just have to be more careful."

"You're not honestly planning on going to the station to work this Friday, are you? In case you forgot, it's Sunday, you're barely going to be nearing the point where you can walk without crutches by then, much less the point where you should be working there," this time it was the spiky-haired golden blond who spoke up, beating the bully to it.

"Reno'll literally drown in his own paperwork if I don't, he's not the best swimmer. Besides, it's desk work, it's not terribly strenuous. There's been a spike in crime lately, everyone at the station has been running around like a chicken with their head cut off trying to deal with the mess, and Christmas is the Friday after next, if you hadn't forgotten. They need all the help they can get."

"He's right, as much as I hate to admit it. Reno and Elena haven't been going to their apartment until midnight or later the past few days, and Blondie at least isn't the type to stay out that late unless it was for work. They must be up to their asses in work to be putting in that much overtime, especially since it's normally Rude or Tseng who stay after," Axel agreed helpfully, entering the room and tossing his boyfriend an apple while he bit into one himself.

"How do you know that? Even if he is your brother, you don't live together," the injured teen prodded, eyebrow quirked questioningly.

"I'm not a stalker, I just happen to be in an apartment with windows that just happen to overlook the street those two take to get to their complex, which is about ten blocks down."

"That's oddly convenient for keeping tabs on them. Though it's still a bit creepy that you do."

"He's my brother, and he's a detective, not to mention a fucking idiot. I like to make sure he's still alive every once and a while. It seems like half of what goes on in the station gets covered up in the news, especially what the Turks do, so sometimes I wonder if I'd even be told if my brother got himself killed."

The sandy-blond didn't miss the glance his ice blue-eyed companion gave him at the mention of things being covered up by the news. He had a feeling at some point in the near future he'd regret not informing the other of everything that went on at his intern job, but he'd have even more problems on his hands if he had. Something about the gang leader most likely trying to strangle Tseng for putting Hayner in harm's way just screamed 'bad idea' to him.

"They're planning on keeping you here overnight a few days to make sure no complications arise, just because the wound was so deep. So you get to experience the many joys of sleeping in a hospital all over again," the scarred man informed him with a smirk.

"Are you entirely sure a few days can't be shortened to something like 'get me the fuck out of here right now'?"

"No, if you try to leave right now they'll sedate you."

Tilting his head to the side a little, the dark-eyed freshman was surprised by the surety with which the larger man had said the last statement.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact waiting for confirmation, because it wasn't hard for the slight boy to imagine the bully trying to walk out of the hospital right after being seriously injured.

"Yeah, I am. What can I say, hospital food sucks."

Roxas snorted, shaking his head, before telling Axel to get a doctor to check up on the now-conscious patient. The redhead complained that he'd just come back from getting them a snack, to which he got an irritated look and beat a hasty retreat to do what he was told. There were certain advantages to not pissing off your boyfriend, especially when he had a habit of hitting people with chairs when he was pissed off, as they all saw the first day of fall classes when someone had made a nasty comment about him and Axel.

No one was willing to tell him he had anger management issues for fear of dismemberment, so they went largely unchecked.

"So, Hayner, I'd say it's good to see you again but in my profession that's almost never an appropriate greeting," the doctor said with a wry smile. The injured Committee member recognized him as the same guy Seifer had punched back in the summer, who'd also set Fuu's leg last week.

"Doctors really don't have a lot of ways to greet people, do they? The standard "Hi, how are you doing?" doesn't go over too hot when someone's just gotten out of the ER."

"Nope, not really. Looks like you'll be staying here for two days or so, as long as things go well. We just want to make sure the wound starts to heal properly," he read off the chart on the bed, glancing up at the disapproving look on the sandy-haired male's face, "You don't seem too happy about that."

"I'd rather get the hell out of here as soon as possible."

"Tseng has also expressed the desire for you to leave the hospital early if you felt you were up to it, though he said he couldn't explain why. At best I might allow you to leave tomorrow if everything is moving along well."

"Tseng rarely explains why he does anything, I guess it just comes with the line of work. Not sure what he's talking about, but I'd like to leave tomorrow if at all possible," to his credit, Hayner actually managed to sound convincing when he said he had no idea what was going on, which was only partially true. He couldn't help but feel like an ass for lying, but he didn't have much choice in the matter.

"We'll see tomorrow. We can give you some sleep-aids tonight if you think you'll have trouble falling asleep with all the creepiness of the hospital at night."

Smiling at the knowledge that even employees of the hospital found it disturbing after dark, he nodded. The physician scribbled something down on the sheet of paper on the clipboard, probably telling the nurse to give him medication with his evening meal.

"Your mother said she'd be here in an hour or so, she's still working with patients. I told her you were doing fine and she shouldn't worry or attempt to kill Tseng with any sort of culinary utensils. She seemed rather perturbed that you'd been injured while he was in the same general area, though from what I gather there wasn't much he could have done."

"They jumped Rufus and I before either Tseng, Roxas, or Axel could get to us."

He nodded once thoughtfully, "If you need me, I'll be around helping the other patients."

They talked idly about a few things, mostly the oldest blond asking questions about what had happened leading up to the fight, before falling silent for half an hour. It wasn't uncomfortable, at least not to the brown-eyed boy, though that could have been the painkillers clouding his judgment. Or the fingers rubbing his scalp, one of the many weaknesses of his Seifer enjoyed exploiting.

Not long after she said she would, Mrs. Dincht arrived looking a little windblown, cheeks reddened by the cold. Glancing at the other occupants of the room before letting her eyes rest on the two gang members, she shook her head.

"Can't you stay out of trouble for the holidays? I fully expected not to have to visit the hospital to check up on any of you for a very long time, yet here I am a week later, for my own son no less. Does anyone have any idea why this happened? Tseng won't tell me a damn thing, no matter how I try to twist his arm."

She wasn't mad so much as worried, and it made the corners of her son's mouth twitch upwards as he rolled his eyes and answered that they were as in the dark as she was. Pursing her lips in displeasure at the news, or rather the lack thereof, the blond woman moved to sit beside him as the scarred teen moved to sit back, giving them some space.

"How are you feeling? The doctor said you wanted to leave tomorrow, so I imagine you're either not in a lot of pain, or you just really hate hospitals."

"Both. My leg doesn't hurt at all really. I'm also hoping to make it to the station Friday, not sure about work at Mike's though."

"Zex and I can cover for you, you really shouldn't be on your feet for that long. Mike won't let you work once he finds out you're on crutches. He's pretty good about giving you time off for injuries," the fighter piped up easily.

"I agree with Seifer, you shouldn't go to work, and I'm not sure if you should go to your intern job either. I know they need the help right now, I can tell by how stressed out their illustriously deadpan leader sounded over the phone, but don't you think you might be pushing yourself?"

"It's a desk job, it doesn't require any kind of athletic ability, I just fill out paperwork," _and occasionally break into mafia hideouts, _"It's not hard, but it's one less thing they need to do."

She sighed, defeated by logic for once. Of course, if anyone in the room knew the whole of it, he'd never be allowed to go back to his "desk job" and would be tied to a chair for even mentioning it. Or maybe in Roxas's case, hit with a chair instead. The thought made him smile despite himself, earning him an odd look from the only female in the room.

"So, what are you boys going to do about the issue of having an apartment on the fifth floor this time?" The psychologist questioned, looking between them.

"I can carry him up and down the stairs. It's not a big deal, I've carried him up them before," the stronger man replied, confidence bordering on the patented Almasy arrogance.

"Then I guess you've got it all figured out. I've got to get going, I've got another appointment in half an hour and I can't be late. Sorry I wasn't able to stay, but I'm sure you'll live," she added with a knowing wink. The blue-eyed woman smiled and kissed him on the forehead as he said goodbye, then turned and walked out after waving to the others and wishing them safe walks home.

"Your mom's kind of a whirlwind," Axel commented offhandedly, glancing at the doorframe where she exited.

"I know. By the way, when are you guys planning on going home? You don't need to stay here any longer, if you don't want to."

"Kicking us out already Hayner? We were just waiting until you woke up, then we were going to make sure you were doing fine then go back home. We probably should go now, it's starting to snow, and that's always annoying to walk through once it starts to accumulate," the spiky-haired blond answered, cerulean eyes drifting out the large window in the corner of the room.

"See you later then, and remind me never to go shopping with you again, it doesn't end well," the lithe skater joked, something that would have gotten him a kick to the leg in any other circumstance. Now the shorter boy just huffed indignantly as he rose from the chair he'd been sitting in and stretched.

"See ya, Hayner, and for the sake of our sanity don't get stabbed again. I'll get your stuff back that you left at our apartment sometime soon, don't worry about it."

It only took his friend a moment to figure out he meant he'd return the necklace that was still resting safely in his pocket. When he nodded they took their coats and left, leaving the couple alone. The first thing the younger expected out of that too-perfect mouth was some sort of reprimand, like "You should have been more careful" or "You could have dodged if you'd been aware of your surroundings". Instead, the first thing Seifer said was, "You had me fucking worried you know."

Snatching the sandy-blond's chin, the leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee leaned in for a gentle kiss. Reciprocating the contact, the freshman curled a hand in the soft, pale hair beneath the ever-present beanie, allowing the kiss to deepen. As the familiar tongue slid between his lips, he let his eyes close and focused on the here and now rather than worrying about anything else.

--------------------------------

The second day in a row he woke up in the hospital he was sadly alone, Seifer having been forced to leave when visiting hours ended. Since the smaller man was conscious and therefore able to demand that he leave so as not to cause a scene, the other had opted listen for once. The chocolate-eyed teen had taken some heavy-duty sleep aids that night that practically knocked him out once they started working, he remembered feeling drowsy and then there was nothing.

The nurses checked his vitals and the progress of the wound, looking for signs of infection, before wrapping it back up in the protective bandages. Everything was doing fine, so the doctor gave him the go ahead to leave once his companion arrived. The stronger skater was only too happy to take the boy he loved off their hands once the latter had changed into a clean set of clothes brought by the sophmore.

Carrying him out of the hospital bridal-style attracted some attention from passersby, but once they neared the apartment, no one seemed to notice much. Probably because it was a fairly common occurrence for the gang leader to carry his boyfriend home, and most of the people walking in the area had seen them before. They got up the stairs easily, much to the younger male's surprise, and once inside he was set on the couch, where there were already a pair of crutches resting in case he felt like moving.

"How are you feeling? Does your leg hurt?" The icy teen prodded, running a hand through his ungelled hair.

"I'm fine, and no, it doesn't hurt very much. I already have a mother, by the way," he quipped back, rolling his large eyes.

"But she's not here at the moment, so I'm in charge of taking care of you in her place. And I'd rather not be beaten to death with a frying pan, so I plan on doing a good job of it."

"Why does everyone seem to think my mom is going to kill them with cooking utensils?"

"Because she's just scary enough that she would? Moms in general are frightening if you fuck with their kids, your mom takes the cake on the scary factor, since she can practically read people's minds with her psychologist shit. I mean, she could tell Tseng was freaking out over the phone, and I couldn't tell the difference in real life."

"My Mom is not going to kill anyone with anything. You're all out of your minds. Here, help me take my pants off-"

"I'll be right over," the ice blue-eyed blond cut him off mischievously, classic smirk in place as he walked back over to the couch from where he was rummaging around in the kitchen.

"Not like that! I just want to change into a pair of shorts, even if they won't be as warm, because it'll be less tight on the bandages and easier to get off and on."

Nodding, the tough man bent over the couch and helped him ease the garment off his slender hips, neither of them mentioning the awkwardness of the situation. Once the pants were removed, the more mobile of the two males left to get his boyfriend a pair of shorts to wear in place of them. They curled up on the couch and watched TV under a blanket for the rest of the day, stopping to have lunch and eventually dinner.

--------------------------------

"This week's gone by pretty fast, hasn't it yo?" Reno greeted the returning intern with a smile (whether he was happy to see Hayner himself or happy that his paperwork would get done for him was up for speculation).

"Fuck, it has. Seifer's going to throw a fit when he finds out I walked here without crutches. You guys have any leads on who those guys who attacked me were? Were they related to the mafia bust in any way?"

"Well, we've got good news and bad news. The good news is we've figured out exactly what's going on. The bad news is that you're right, they're mafia. The men you encountered were extremely low-level cronies, pretty much snatched off the street and told to take out Rufus and the kid that got the cops into the hideout, among other people, you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time and high up on their hit list. In a way, we owe you for shoving Rufus out of the way, because the men have admitted that they were aiming for him originally, you just got in the way and pissed them off," the foreign detective explained, face grim.

"So...You're telling me I'm on a mafia hit list?"

"We're hoping to catch their leader before Christmas, but we're going to need your continued help. I'm afraid the men we have in custody are too unimportant to have any valuable information on their leader's location, we need you and Rufus to act as bait in multiple locations in order to attract higher-up members that we didn't catch in the bust. If the boss is still able to operate, he must still have a few decent henchmen, and they know where he is. We just need to draw him out."

"And they aren't stupid enough to come after Turks. So it has to be me and Rufus, because we're the only ones they want that aren't considered too dangerous to attempt to kill," it was disturbing how the pieces fit into place as the dark-eyed boy spoke them out loud.

"Rufus has already agreed. And you'll have backup when you're doing these bait missions, we're not going to chance anything happening even if you could take out the men yourself. It's entirely optional, you can still keep working here if you don't want to do it, but keep in mind they'll come after you either way."

"It's a good idea yo, if nothing else it'll help us catch these guys faster so we can get them off your tail. Sure Seif's a tough bastard who knows which end of a gun to point at the bad guy, but even he would have trouble holding off the mafia once they got it in their little heads to off you. I don't want my little bro beating the shit out of me because his boyfriend's best friend got killed because of me."

"I'm guessing I'm not allowed to tell anyone about this either? Including Seifer?"

"Exactly. None of this leaves the station unless you're talking to a Turk or Rufus. Don't even mention it to a cop, they might be dirty. As much as I hate to bring the morality of my own comrades into question, we can't trust them where the mob's involved. I imagine it's going to be difficult to lie to him about where you're going if you decide to commit to being bait, but it's just something we have to do.

"From now on, no matter what, avoid going anywhere that isn't your own apartment, the home of a Turk, or Rufus's mansion if you really must. That includes going over to Roxas and Axel's apartment, or to your house. You'd be leading anyone who happened to be watching right to a bunch of unsuspecting hostages."

"Got it. I'll do it, but only to get these assholes off my back. Oh, and if Seifer ever finds out about this, I'm blaming everything on you."

"Understood, it's my fault I got you involved in the first place. I can expect to have one very pissed off gang leader on my doorstep if word of this gets out then. Or more likely breaking down my front door," the raven-haired man said with mild humor.

"I've been meaning to ask you, didn't the Turks get rid of the mob back when you were a gang?"

An mix of nostalgia and pain flit across the almond-eyed ex-gang leader's face, "Yes, we destroyed Don Corneo's operation and put him in jail. Turns out we must have missed a few spots, and now they've come back to haunt us."

There was a moment of awkward silence that no one knew how to fill, before the most easygoing of them went to his desk and pulled something out of a drawer.

"By the way, we've got something for you yo. We've been worried about you running around unarmed for a while now, and especially after this, we don't think you should be going around without something to defend yourself with besides your own fists. Call it an early Christmas present, the safety's on, don't worry," the redheaded Turk said with his infamous smirk as he handed the Committee member a standard issue .9 mm handgun and a license to carry a concealed weapon.

"What? And how the hell am I going to explain _this_ to Seifer? I can't imagine he won't notice when I bring home a _gun_ tonight."

"Tuck it behind your back in the waistband of your pants and under your coat. Just get undressed alone and put it in one of your coat pockets or something. Just use a little stealth, shouldn't be too hard to keep him in the dark for a while. Once we have the boss in custody it'll be okay if you tell him what's been going on, or at least that you were in some sort of danger. For now just to your best to keep him from noticing the gun," Elena offered helpfully, appearing with some files in her hand from her office, apparently having overheard the conversation.

"See? 'Lena knows how to conceal weapons in any situation, let me tell-"

A jerk to his ponytail brought his sentence to an end with a startled yelp, which only served to spark the college student's curiosity as to what kind of situations he was referring to. Then again, there were certain things one had to be to be a Turk, and one of them was badass, so he wasn't about to ask the blond woman. Though he did seem to remember hearing a story about her having to dress up as a high-priced call girl for an undercover mission once, which would involve hiding a weapon in very little clothing. He took the proffered weapon and did as instructed, finding it marginally uncomfortable.

"Ignore Reno, he has no idea what he's talking about. Anyways, we've got lots of work for you to do, aside from some debriefing. You'll be here till late, hope that's not a problem. We were hoping to conduct the first mission tomorrow, in the coffee shop, and after that you'll be meeting Reno in the firing range so you can learn how to use that thing. Do you think you could make an excuse to be there on such short notice?"

"Yeah, I'll just say I hung out with Pence and Olette and tell them to say I was over, say I was out doing some more shopping or something. They love the whole Christmas scene, they'd be happy to lie about it if I said it was for something present-related."

"Good, we're meeting at three sharp. Be early rather than late. Call us if you run into trouble, Tseng programmed all our numbers into your phone when you were in the hospital," the blue-eyed female explained before dumping a load of files and other paperwork that needed to be sifted through and filled out in his arms, an apologetic look on her face.

Sighing, he plopped down in Reno's largely unused yet somehow messy desk and got to work while the owner of said furniture went out to check out a call about a drug deal with his ever-present partner, Rude nodding once towards Hayner by way of acknowledgement.

The hours dragged like they always did, the work was mostly monotonous and easy. It was boring, but at least it wasn't particularly difficult. He might as well be talking about half of his classes. Eventually the intrepid (he couldn't stop from snorting at the thought) duo returned, having found the guys making the deals but losing them in a sequence of alleys. Tired, hypothermic, and decidedly wet, they relayed what information they were able to gather to their boss before grabbing their things and getting ready to head home.

"Time to go shrimp, it's past midnight if you hadn't noticed. I'm surprised your boy hasn't called yet, yo."

Pulling out his phone and looking at the time, he realized it was twelve forty-seven and he probably could have left an hour ago if he'd asked. Swearing, he set down the pen he'd been using and glared at the last few papers yet to be filled out, which he was too damn tired to even attempt now that he knew it wasn't really necessary. Rubbing his forehead and getting up, he stretched for the first time since he'd sat down and waved to the gathered detectives before leaving for the night, knowing he'd get hell when he got home.

--------------------------------

"I guess Axel wasn't kidding about Reno and Elena coming home late. Tseng let me know you'd be there for a while longer at about eleven. He said they were working on a big case and it was keeping them all busy," came the hard voice that greeted him with mild annoyance when he opened the door to their shared apartment, the owner watching him with ice-colored eyes from the couch.

"Yeah. Sorry, I didn't realize the time, I didn't even get all my work done tonight. I hope you weren't too worried," he apologized sheepishly, suddenly very aware of the firearm tucked in his waistband and the need to remove it before the other thought to attempt to make physical contact.

"You shouldn't have walked there and back without crutches either, you're not doing your injury any good," the slightly taller man continued, light blond brows drawn down in an oddly lenient show of irritation.

"I know, but my leg doesn't hurt, so I didn't feel like it was necessary for me to use them. I can walk just fine now," he returned easily, having planned for this. Not getting a response, he added that he was going to change and entered their shared bedroom, taking off his coat and hanging it in the closet before putting the gun in the pocket that faced the wall. That rather large crisis averted, for today anyways, he went about changing into the clothes he'd set out for sleeping in, still having trouble getting his pants off.

Once he'd successfully transitioned into more comfortable clothes, he turned back towards the doorway only to find the other occupant of the abode leaning in it. He froze, then realized there was no way the man could have been there that long. The sandy-haired teen had been listening when he was taking off his coat, so he would have heard the larger sophmore get up and walk over.

"Something wrong?" The slighter of the two asked hesitantly, not sure what the scarred bully was up to.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. You seem a little jumpy. Did they ever figure out who the guys who attacked you were affiliated with?"

"They were just some small-time thugs looking to earn some respect and possibly win their way into the mob by offing Rufus. I got in the way," he manufactured a lie quickly off the top of his head. It wasn't far off the truth, so it was believable.

"I almost feel sorry for the guy. He has some attempt on his life something like every other month. I can't decide if it makes him safer or puts him in more danger to be dating a Turk."

"Oh, I'm going to be hanging with Pence and Olette at three tomorrow, don't know when I'll be getting back."

"Alright. Please tell me you're not going to the mall this time?"

"No, I'll just be hanging out at their place. I'm going to stay away from the mall for a while, for obvious reasons," he added with a lopsided smile.

"As long as you're not going anywhere with Rufus again. Leave it to his boyfriend to save him next time, or his own gun."

"Okay, I'll do my best to avoid him."

And there went what was probably the fourth or fifth lie in the past week. Nothing like deceiving the person you cared about most to get one into the Christmas spirit. Noting his slightly off expression, the blue-eyed blond walked over and kissed the smaller student, hand threading through his gel-hardened hair like it was navigating a well-known jungle. After a minute he pulled away and lifted the still injured blond off his feet, carrying him over to the bed before setting him down in it and crawling in himself.

--------------------------------

"Just fire by instinct Hayner, don't think about it. If it takes you more than three seconds to aim you're already dead anyways. Get a shot off, even if it's just a body hit it'll line up the next ones. We're not training you to be a sniper here, you just have to be able to hit some part of them in a short amount of time."

He sighed at the female voice inside the heavy ear protection, telling him how to handle his weapon for the umpteenth time that day. At least he could hit the target and hold the gun right, it was now just a matter of speeding up the process of drawing out the weapon and firing.

Surprisingly enough, their first attempt at baiting the lackeys had gone off well considering they were stumbling blind. The pair of blonds had been followed by a suspicious individual after they left the cafe, but the man had disappeared into an alley when Rude showed up, and they were unable to figure out where he went after that. Then it was straight to the indoor firing range in the station's chilly basement for the female Turk and the brown-eyed skater. They'd gone through the paces, first how to get the damn safety off and then how to fire it, now they were practicing drawing and shooting without time for precise aiming.

Whipping the gun out from the waistband of his pants (they were practicing from the most likely place it would be in the event of actual use) he fired off three shots without even taking the time to figure out where the gun was in relation to the target twenty feet away with his eyes, just assuming they were lined up correctly. The first two shots hit the target in the torso, and the last one put a hole through the neck.

"That's more like it Hayner! Just trust yourself, generally speaking at close range you don't need to aim much to hit your target, unless you've got some really shit spatial relations. Keep practicing and if you can keep this up we'll take a break."

He tried another five times with fairly similar results, each time waiting for the gun to cool before tucking it back into his pants, and she said he could stop for now. Heaving another sigh, he took off the ear protection and turned to leave the area. She joined him, telling him he'd done well enough today that she felt confident enough to let him go until he had time for another session. She handed him three clips of bullets and told him he'd better not need any of them.

The sandy-blond skater left the station, knowing there'd be another meeting Monday at four near the Usual Spot, where they'd be walking through the main drag of town. This time and the mayor-hopeful would split up at the beginning of the trek to ensure that the thugs didn't catch on to their plan.

He was legitimately meeting Roxas that day, he'd just tell the blond he had to do some stuff for the station afterwards and didn't want Seifer getting pissy about it, so if the elder of the three asked the spiky-haired boy would just say Hayner was with him. It was getting exhausting to come up with enough lies and half-truths to cover up his activities. He hoped like hell all of this would be over soon, because if his boyfriend found out what was really going on, he'd be screwed.

--------------------------------

Lo and behold, on Monday when he returned at a little past eight from the rather failed second attempt at attracting what would normally be unwanted notice (though he had felt like someone was following him home, even if he couldn't see anyone) and hanging out with Roxas, he came upon a rather pissed looking Seifer.

"You're not telling me everything. Why were you in the commercial district with Rufus and the Turks today?"

Clearly the scarred man knew what he was talking about, so lying about where he'd been was pointless, "How did you know that? Are you following me?"

"No, I got a call from one of my street contacts saying they saw you with them today and thought I'd be interested to know. Now what the hell is going on?"

He walked over and pushed the smaller boy right into the door, using his superior size to his advantage. When his back met the heavy wooden obstacle behind him, the gun in his waistband knocked against it with a loud clunk. Brows drawn down enough to mar the scar between them, the older of the two reached behind him and slid a hand up his coat before grabbing onto the firearm and pulling it out, scowling.

"Is it really so serious that you need to carry around a gun now? I really doubt any kind of desk job requires that, Hayner. Now start explaining," he barked, anger seeping off his words. They were just inches away from a fist fight, and the chocolate-eyed teen knew it.

"I'm helping the police with a case. I can't explain any more than that. Do you really think I'd lie to you if I didn't have to?"

"Goddamn it all Hayner, if you're in danger I want to know about it. I don't care how important it is that I don't or what your orders are, I'd like to know why Tseng feels the need to give you a gun to walk around with. Should I be worried you're going to be attacked again like you were in the mall? Or were they really just after Rufus? And how did you get involved with this anyway?"

"I promised Tseng and the others I wouldn't tell anyone about what we're doing, not even you. If you really care that much, I'll tell you later, but for now you'll just have to deal with knowing I can handle things myself. I'm kind of in deep and no information can leave the station. We're not even allowed to talk with cops about what we're doing."

"This is why you wanted to go to your job there on Friday, isn't it? You already had some clue what was happening, and you just lied and said you didn't. Fuck Hayner, how long has this been going on? How long have you been lying to me about what you do Friday nights?"

This was probably the point where he regretted never telling his boyfriend about the bust, regretted ever taking the internship in the first place, and really just regretted living in general as he stared up at the mixture of hurt, suspicion, and anger on the handsome fighter's face.

"Yeah, I had some clue what was happening in the hospital, and I've only been avoiding telling you because you'd react this way."

"So it's okay to just not tell me that you're doing something that's incredibly dangerous because you know I'd react badly? Don't you think I'd be a little more pissed off to learn that not only is your life threatened in some way, but you've been keeping that little tidbit of information from me?" The leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee said, nearing the point at which he could be considered yelling.

"Yeah, but I was hoping you wouldn't have spies who called you to tell you what I was doing, so by the time you realized something was wrong it would be okay for me to tell you the whole story. I need you to trust me for a week or two, if that's not too hard," the pinned male snapped, feeling his patience go out the window.

"Yes, it is too hard. I'm not willing to let you risk your life for the Turks without a decent explanation, in fact, I really don't care how important it is that you help them, I don't want you doing it."

"It's not your choice to make."

The normally stoic man looked like he'd been punched in the gut for a second before what could be best described as a seething rage set in. Suddenly aware that he was pinned to a door by his much stronger boyfriend who happened to have a gun in his hand (not that he'd ever use it), a wave of fear crashed over him like a bucket of ice water and he realized he probably shouldn't have made the man so ticked. The sandy-blond didn't honestly think Seifer would actually hurt him, but that didn't mean they wouldn't resort to throwing punches.

"Get out."

The words were said with such finality he knew the argument was over even before the other teen removed his weight from the dark-eyed student and stalked away, taking the weapon with him, whether on purpose or by accident he wasn't sure. Either way he was pretty sure he wouldn't need it.

"Fine," the shorter skater returned, opening the door behind him, walking through and slamming it closed. Heaving a sigh, he considered his options as he slid down the stair railings. He could wander around the streets aimlessly for the rest of the night, which while dangerous, would spare him explaining to anyone exactly why he got kicked out of his boyfriend's apartment, or he could call up one of the Turks and ask to stay at their place. Running a hand through his rigid hair, he wished he could just go to his own house, or even Axel and Roxas's place.

Once he'd exited the complex, he noted that the temperature had dropped a few more degrees, breath curling away from his mouth in thick gusts. If he remembered the weather report, it was supposed to be something like thirty degrees by now, and get down to twenty at the lowest. Flipping open his phone, he found Reno's stored number, let his finger hover over the call button, then closed it again and started walking down the block.

It was unlikely any of the detectives would be home by this time anyways, so he might as well walk around for a while. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, he just picked a direction and started walking. A wry smile twitched on his lips when he remembered what happened last time he did that, in a rather crowded mall. As he passed the sixth block he felt that creeping feeling of someone following him again, but he avoided the urge to turn and look.

Ten minutes later he was entirely certain someone was really following him, but every time he looked back he didn't see anyone. Snarling in irritation, he kept on going. Recognizing the area he was in, he waited until he was walking by an alley before bolting down it and turning into the matrix of other joining dark, narrow passageways between the tall buildings. He heard someone swear and heavy footsteps behind him as he turned down another alley and suddenly there were two pairs of footsteps following him.

Just as he was reaching the end and was about to turn left he was tackled to the ground, a knife pressed to his throat hard enough to draw blood. He'd just managed to kick the man off of him when the owner of the other pair of footsteps arrived, a gunshot bouncing off the confined spaces. The attacker toppled forward onto his hands and knees, even in the dark the gang member could see the shiny spot of blood on the back of his right shoulder. Looking up at the other figure as he kicked the momentarily vulnerable thug in the head, he recognized the former instantly.

"Seifer? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to make sure you got to wherever you were going to go safely. I may be pissed at you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to kick you out into the street when you're obviously in some sort of danger and just assume you'll still be alive in the morning. I'm not that much of an asshole. Where the hell are you going anyways? If you didn't know, your house and Roxas's apartment are in the exact opposite direction."

"I'm not supposed to go anywhere except our apartment or a Turk's place. And no I can't explain that either so don't ask. Thanks for your help, but I could have handled it myself."

Pale eyes rolled in the dim light supplied by the fixture above the door nearby, clearly the back exit to the building, "You were handling it just fine when I saw you. You're bleeding."

The rather obvious statement was accompanied by him striding forward and pulling the accosted freshman up off the ground, examining the shallow wound. It wasn't bleeding much, the sluggish fluid already cooling on his collarbone.

"Where are you going then? Or are you seriously just planning on wandering around in the middle of the night until you fall over dead from hypothermia?"

"It's not likely any of them are back home yet. For now, I'd better call Tseng to pick this guy up," the chocolate-eyed teen said as he pulled out his phone and began doing just that.

"So I imagine you know why he was after you?"

"Yeah. It's the whole reason I'm even doing this shit."

He waited while the phone rang, hearing the smooth voice of the ex-gang leader on the other end pick up after the third time, "Tseng, I was out...walking, and I picked up a stray. I think you should come pick him up. He's been shot in the shoulder by the way, and will probably need medical attention. Figured I'd call you first. I'm in an alley off of Vale street, I'm going to try and drag him to the road."

"Got it. I'll send an ambulance and have Reno meet you there. I trust you're uninjured?"

"For the most part. Just a nick."

"Good job Hayner. Be careful."

There was a click on the other end and he closed the phone, looking back at the scarred blond to find him already lifting the unconscious mob lackey and dragging him to the specified location. Where the gesture would normally be appreciated, at the moment it just pissed Hayner off even more.

He did _not_ want his boyfriend's help right now, especially when said man was being so fucking difficult about everything, because then he'd feel like the asshole in the situation, like he did right now. But he seethed quietly, because being tackled so roughly earlier had jarred his injured leg and he really didn't want to carry someone twice his size (and the mafia hitman was) all the way to the curb. Once they got there, the bully dumped his burden on the sidewalk, looking at his companion with an unreadable expression.

"I'm still pissed at you for lying."

"I'm still pissed at you for not being more understanding."

"So we're on the same page."

Just as he was about to say something no doubt earth-shatteringly witty about stating the obvious, he was pushed against the nearest solid object for the second time in probably an hour, except this time slightly chapped lips crashed over his. Whatever his retort may have been, the world would forever go without hearing it, because he completely forgot how to think about anything except the man he loved. Which was annoying as hell when he was supposed to be mad.

The kiss was rough, heated, and unmistakably Seifer. While the older of the pair was smart, he was never good at expressing his feelings in words, so he did so with actions instead. Over time, both when they were together and before, the lithe fighter had become a skilled translator of the unique language. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the blue-eyed blond wanted him to get from the contact this time. In the gang leader's own way, he was saying "even if I'm pissed off, I still love you, dumbass".

Just as quickly as it had started, the liplock ended and his gun was suddenly slipped back into his waistband, Hayner finding himself missing the warmth the other's body had created before he remembered that he was supposed to still be mad at the elder teen. And damn him for making it so hard. Finally they heard sirens and the ambulance and police car, Reno in the passenger seat, arrived.

"Seifer, wasn't expecting you here, yo," the bluish green-eyed cop said in greeting, a slightly confused look on his face.

"I wasn't expecting him," the sophmore jerked his head in the direction of the paramedics who were loading the limp suspect into the ambulance as they spoke, "to try to kill my boyfriend."

The ex-fighter laughed, nerves evident in the edge to it, "About that-"

"I know, you can't tell me what the hell is going on. I've been told that about five times now. If I see Tseng any time in the next few days, I'm going to punch him. Pass that on, if you could."

"Assaulting an officer will net you jail time, you know," called the driver of the remaining vehicle, the ambulance having sped off a few seconds ago. He was an officer the sandy-haired intern recognized from his immense time at the station.

"Don't worry about it Reggie, the kid's allowed to punch the boss if he wants to, yo. For this anyways," the spiky-haired Turk dismissed with a wave.

"By the way, Reno, take Hayner home with you and Elena tonight? He needs a place to stay for the night."

"Riiight. Will do. Not even going to ask why. Be careful on the way back."

"Tch, I really doubt I need to worry."

"Famous last words," the cop waiting by his car piped up again, earning himself a glare from two blonds at once. The scarred gang leader jammed his hands in his pockets moodily, turning and walking back towards his apartment.

"'Lena's going to want an explanation, just to warn you," Reno said as they got in the car and drove towards the station.

--------------------------------

"I'm sorry Hayner. Not only did we nearly get you killed just now, but it looks like we also fucked up your love life," the pretty blond woman apologized once he'd gotten done explaining to the two detectives he was staying with just what had happened in the very short time since they'd last seen him. The corners of his mouth twitched up when he caught her swearing, since it was so unlike her in a low-stress situation. Clearly her boyfriend had rubbed off on her in some respects after so long.

"Seif's just angry, he'll get over it. By tomorrow he'll probably let me back into the apartment. He just kicked me out because he didn't know if he could keep cool enough to avoid punching me or not, and he wanted some time to think. He did follow me out into the streets to make sure I was safe, so it's obvious he's not so pissed he no longer cares."

"I guess that's good. Tseng called me earlier to say that the man who attacked you seems to have the information we need, but it'll take a bit longer to get it out of him. He said maybe a couple days at most. It's ironic the one time you weren't looking to bait anyone that we actually caught someone useful."

"Ironic? More like damn annoying. I can't even walk down the fucking street at eight-thirty without having some guy try to knife me in the throat. What is it with these guys and knives anyways? Do they have something against guns?"

"Yeah, the knives are quieter for one. Messier, generally, but don't make as much noise."

Shaking his head at the logic of her statement, Hayner stood from the chair at their kitchen table and stretched before saying he was going to lay down on the couch and get some sleep. Reno was out getting himself some more vodka, apparently he'd run out and needed a few more shots, because everyone loved a hung over redhead in the morning. Curling up on their sofa, he burrowed into a thick blanket made himself comfortable. Not long after the not-yet-sloshed Turk returned with his favorite beverage, but by then the slight teen was already asleep.

--------------------------------

He awoke to a foreign alarm beeping distantly, sighing and sitting up blearily. In an attempt to find out what hellish time he'd been forced to wake up at, he pulled out his phone, the display reading a cheery five-thirty. Fucking five-thirty in the bloody morning. Hayner had the sudden violent urge to break something shaped like an alarm clock. Groaning, he shoved the pillow over his face and reburied himself in the warm blanket.

"You can stay here for part of the day if you want shrimp. At least until you're sure you're welcome at your place again. We don't want you getting shanked wandering around the streets aimlessly, yo. Just make sure to lock up before you leave," Reno said, clearly having no problem speaking to a formless lump on his couch even though he probably had a terrible hang over. Thanking him for the hospitality, he got a "No problem, 'Lena would have shot me if I hadn't have taken you in, and that's not a joke," in return.

Smirking to himself at the image of the couple shooting at each other for one reason or another, he fell back asleep. Only to be woken up about three hours later by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Grumbling, he pulled it out, brows furrowing when he realized it was their manager, Mike calling. After the standard greeting, the man asked if Hayner knew where his boyfriend had gotten off to, since he hadn't shown up to work. Right about then the sandy-haired male's heart just ceased to beat for several sections, before revving up at three times the normal speed as he grabbed his gun and his coat and ran out the front door, making sure to lock it.

He answered no, but that he was going to check, and didn't bother to explain further before closing the phone and hanging up on his boss. Probably not the best idea, but he didn't give a damn about anything but finding the person he loved right now. Which was why he was running in four degree weather with an injured leg that was really not appreciating it. By the time he got to the complex his lungs were burning and his leg was very close to just giving out on him.

As he took the stairs two at a time, he stopped to look at something on one of the stairs on about the third flight, almost to his destination. There was a small spot of blood of them. He didn't even notice the rest of the stairs, the next thing he knew he was jamming his key into their door and kicking it open, to find a nightmare of strewn furniture and the odd bloodstain. And right in the largest of them, a puddle about five inches across near the door, was a note. Snarling, he bent down to pick it up.

_If you want your boyfriend back, bring the key to the evidence vault to dock warehouse 3 tonight at 2 am. Don't be late, don't bring anyone else. Fuck up and he dies._

This was one of those rare moments when the normally tough teen just wanted to break down and cry. He didn't care if people were trying to kill _him_, but now he'd managed to get his partner kidnapped, possibly seriously injured judging by the red splotches in the area. Sinking to the floor, he pulled out his phone and called the person responsible for getting him involved in this in the first place.

"Hayner? Is something wrong?" The dark-eyed cop actually sounded concerned.

"Seifer's been kidnapped. He didn't come to work and there's blood all over the apartment, they left a note," he couldn't keep his voice from cracking as he spoke.

"Shit."

He'd never once heard Tseng swear. It didn't exactly reassure him.

"I'm guessing they want some way to access the money we seized?"

"Yeah, they want me to deliver the key to the evidence locker tonight at two. They mentioned a warehouse down by the docks."

"I'm sending Rude, he'll be there in about twenty minutes. We'll talk about the plan at the station. I'm sorry Hayner."

He closed the phone and swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat. As he slipped the device back into his pocket he felt another object in there and remembered Roxas had given him back the necklace the day before. Gathering his wits about him again, he got up and put it away into the pocket of his favorite shorts in the closet, where he'd remember it and the other wouldn't think to look. Assuming he was still alive by Christmas.

Slamming his forehead against the wall, he banished the thought and walked back to the destroyed living room, to wait for the silent man with sunglasses. Sitting against the wall next to the door, he put his head in his hands and concentrated on nothing but breathing. After a while he heard short, measured footsteps and the doorknob turned, a brown, bald head looking in at him.

Standing shakily, his leg still bothering him from his marathon earlier, he looked back and tried his best to appear normal. He failed miserably. Nodding and placing a hand on his shoulder, the ever-quiet man consoled him in his own way before turning and walking down the hallway, meaning that Hayner should follow. It was a desolate walk back to their home away from home.

The lone female detective hugged him close, lips pursed in a tight line as he walked into the area in the back that held their offices. Sighing heavily into the embrace, he returned it, trying to maintain his dignity by not crying like he so desperately wanted to. There was heavy tension in the room, even Reno seemed sobered, mouth turned down at the edges. Frowning, he handed the note to Tseng, who read it quickly and set it down.

"I've actually managed to get the hostage to explain some of their plan, though at the time I didn't realize they were planning on taking Seifer as the hostage. The boss and four or five of the men will be there waiting for you. As soon as you give them the key they'll give it to one of their contacts in the station who will break in and take the money some time this week, meanwhile they have a ship waiting for them at the dock to remove them from Twilight Town and out of our jurisdiction tonight. I'm the only one who has a key to the locker, hence why they need you to get it."

"Right. So, if there's only six, maybe seven people there including the boss, it shouldn't be too hard to take them out. It says not to bring anyone, so it'd probably be best if you guys waited outside until you hear gunshots."

They blinked and stared before Reno snorted and some of the humor came back into his face, "You...aren't seriously thinking of trying to take them on yourself, are you? This is the mob, yo."

"And that's exactly what they'll be thinking too. I really doubt they'll be expecting me to pull out a gun and start shooting them once I hand over the key. As long as you guys can get in quickly and help me take care of the rest, it shouldn't be a problem. Mafia or not, they're still just people."

"I've already said this once, but this time I really mean it. You are one of the craziest fuckers I've ever known. It's downright admirable."

Tseng just sighed, nodded, and paged one of the secretaries for maps of the docks down at the beach and a map of specifically warehouse 3 and its catwalks. They sat down and got to work.

--------------------------------

Jamming his hands in his pockets, turning the card key over in his right one nervously, he took a breath and walked into the warehouse and kept going until he reached the center about ten paces in. Four men turned to look at him from the middle of the clearing of shipping containers, the one in the large, expensive coat the most obvious candidate for mob boss among them.

Right next to them was the only person he really cared to see tied to a metal chair, masses of dried blood on his shirt and pants, as well as a streak down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead. His eyes were still the same hard, sharp shards of ice they always were, and the skater could see slightly pink-tinged bandages on his bicep, assuming he'd probably been tended to by someone with half a brain.

"You got it?" The one in the coat asked, greed evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, catch," the brown-eyed gang member replied confidently, feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline as he flicked the card over to the man like a throwing star. The boss looked it over, then with a smirk that probably matched Hayner's at this point, gestured to one of the other men.

They'd probably thought to be clever and pull one of the bad guy moves from the movies where even after receiving the ransom they killed the hostage, but as the thug drew his gun to shoot the tied up Committee leader, the dark-eyed blond whipped out his own gun and shot him in the chest, missing his heart by a few inches. Another round pierced his arm and the gun fell.

There was a split second in which they paused in what seemed like disbelief, his companion among them, and he used it to his advantage, unloading another three rounds into the nearest man as he tried to pull his gun out of his waistband. Somewhere, on a different plane than the one controlling his movements, he wondered when he'd gone from someone who turned into a sniveling heap because they'd just killed someone in self-defense to a person who was shooting mafia thugs without feeling guilty. Then again, they'd hurt the person he cared for most, and they'd probably live anyways. Probably.

Commotion elsewhere told him the other lookouts were moving on the catwalks above him, clanking still distant enough that he didn't need to worry. The other gunman already had his weapon, a .45, pointed straight at him. They were both staring down the barrels of each others' guns when another gunshot sounded, this time from behind the mob lackey. He fell face first onto the floor, dead, having been shot in the head by Elena, who then tackled the boss to the ground and handcuffed him.

"The others have got things covered up top, you untie Seifer."

Not needing to be told twice, he walked over to the tired looking fighter and undid the ropes that secured his hands and feet to the chair, tucking the gun back into its unofficial home beforehand. Once done he sat back on the balls of his feet and looked up into the bloodied face, which was studying his intently.

"Hey," the golden blond said, voice rough.

"I'm sorry Seifer, this never would have happened if I hadn't lied to you, or hadn't gotten involved in all this shit in the first place. I just wanted to help-"

"You talk too much."

Before he could answer, the larger man grabbed him by the front of his coat and yanked him forward, pressing their lips together. His mouth tasted a little like blood, and it only served to increase the guilt the lithe member of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee felt. It must have shown, because when he pulled away, the hard-eyed man frowned.

"Quit blaming yourself. If anyone's to blame for this, it's that jackass that Elena has pinned. If anything, I'm proud of the way you handled yourself just now. Though you probably could have been a little less cocky."

"Must be all that time I spend with you. You're finally rubbing off on me."

The female cop's grunt of pain could be heard as her captive elbowed her hard in the ribs in an attempt to escape. The blood-covered sophmore stood, ready to grab him in cash he bucked her off and ran. Seeing the empty chair suddenly sparked an idea in Hayner's head, and he picked it up and told the blue-eyed woman to move off him for a moment. She gave him an odd look, but obliged, possibly just because he had a wicked grin on his face.

Taking a page out of Roxas's book, he hit the source of all his current problems with a chair. Surprisingly, the large-coated man was much more cooperative after that.

--------------------------------

Rolling out of an already vacated bed, Hayner looked around for his roommate, who was nowhere to be found. Shivering, he walked over to the closet and pulled out the box containing the necklace. He wondered where the fuck Seifer ran off to, seeing as it was, he glanced at the clock, six thirty-six on Christmas morning. Ruffling his no doubt messy hair, he plopped down on the couch and wrapped himself in the blanket there.

He was just contemplating calling the scarred college student when he walked through the door, appearing for all the world like there was nothing going on. There was an odd glint in his pale eyes.

"Good morning Hayner. You look frozen."

"Merry Christmas, Seifer. I am. Fix it. Now."

"Someone's feeling bossy this morning. By the way, Fuu and Rai are going to be here in a few minutes," he informed the other as he slid in beside him, then lifted the smaller boy up so he could lay under him. Brown eyes fell closed as the one on top curled into the muscular form, avoiding the injured areas, Hayner pushing the small package into his boyfriend's hand as he did so. Opening one eye slightly to watch his expression, the younger of the pair noticed the rough leader's small smile before he even opened the box.

Once he did, it was all he could do just to stare at it for a few seconds, before his smile actually grew to a proportion that would have been noticeable by normal people, which never happened. He pulled it out and put it on.

"Where did you get this? And how did you pay for it for that matter?"

"I commissioned it about two months ago, and Reno gave me part of his Christmas bonus, which was rather large."

He didn't need to say he liked it, the gentle hand in dark blond hair and his smile conveyed the message well enough. There was a knock on the door, to which the ice blue-eyed blond said the door was unlocked, and the other half of the Committee walked in, with, of all things, two blond tabby kittens that looked to be only six or seven weeks old.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Rai agreed, though at a much lower decibel level than that of his girlfriend.

"Why do you have kittens?" The lone freshman among them asked, eyeing the adorable creatures as they mewled in Rai's large arms with slight envy, he really wanted to pet the little balls of fluff.

"I found them on my way home last Friday, they were sitting out in the snow, so I shoved them in my coat and took them home. I put them in a box in a corner of the closet for the night, then called your mom the next day to see if she wanted one, only to get fed a sob story about how you loved cats but she had pet allergies. So, naturally, I went to the landlord, convinced him to let us keep them here despite the strict no pet rule, and had Fuu and Rai keep the kittens in their apartment, which allows pets below a certain weight limit. Merry Christmas Hayner," Seifer added for effect, smirking, as the brunet man who'd been holding the kittens set them down on the two blonds, where they preceded to climb around on the blanket with their tiny claws.

The most intelligent thing he could do when put into such a situation was stare at the one who'd spoken, mouth slightly ajar before blue eyes rolled and the hand that was previously occupied with his hair shut it for him. Then a slow smile spread across his face and he leaned up to kiss the still-injured teen. He pulled away seconds later when a curious feline inserted its needle-line claws into his back, which tickled more than anything else.

"I can just see it now, leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee: enjoys rescuing stray kittens he finds on his way home, cuddling with his boyfriend, and gets straight-As in science and history. Your reputation is going to die. Just, fall over and die," The dark-eyed boy said with an evil grin.

"You tell anyone about this, and you may never be heard from again," the more image-conscious of them warned, though it was hard to tell whether he was actually joking or not.

"You really want to try something like that when you know my mom?"

"Good point," he returned with a laugh, before moving on to the next topic, "I'd better start making everyone breakfast-"

"INJURED."

"She's right, ya know? We'll cook for you today. You've both been working really hard this week. You deserve a break."

Looking genuinely touched (for all of half a second) he thanked them, and they disappeared into the kitchen. Sighing and petting the nearest purring furball, the smaller of the two rested his head on the other's hard pectoral muscles.

"Do I want to know how you convinced the landlord to let us keep the cats?"

"It may or may not have involved firearms."

"Then no I don't want to know," he replied, before shaking his head, "This has been such a weird Christmas."

"Definitely. I kicked you out, got kidnapped, you took down the mob and shot two people. Normal people just get a little too drunk and say things they shouldn't at office parties."

"Well, when normal people say Christmas is about being with family, they don't mean the mafia either," the police station intern mused.

"Christmas with the mafia? That sounds like the name of a holiday cop thriller crossover movie, a terrible one."

Hayner snorted and rolled his large eyes, even if it was true, before adding, "Besides, when have we _ever_ been like normal people?"

--------------------------------

**Well. I'm ridiculously late with this, and I'm aware of how much I suck because of that. I've been pretty sick the past week I've been trying to write this, vomiting, fever, whatnot, even failing so much as to be sick on Christmas, sooo, I wasn't all that healthy or motivated while attempting this. I'm not even sure if it's actually, well, good? Ha. Hopefully everything makes sense, half of it was written between 12-4am with a fever or while just plain sleep deprived beyond sanity, so it's a toss up. **


End file.
